


Jokes On Me

by elutherya



Category: The Boyz (Korea Band), X1 (Korea Band)
Genre: Fluff, Hand Jobs, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Narcissism, Nipple Play, Strangers to Lovers, minor selfcest, over sensitivity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-09-29 18:48:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20440784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elutherya/pseuds/elutherya
Summary: "It’s Lee Sangyeon btw :)"They're not the words Hangyul expects to see when he checks the texts from the unknown number on his phone. He has no idea that it's about to be the start of something new.





	Jokes On Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [timeofsorrow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/timeofsorrow/gifts).

> This fic uses a workskin, so if you’ve turned those off, you’re gonna miss some important interactions!
> 
> This whole thing started because of Hope posting something about how wouldn't it be funny if Sangyeon had gone with Hangyul for his stage name like his company had suggested. I made a few comments in return and then three weeks later realized I hadn't been able to stop thinking about it. I then posed a hypothetical question to CAW about "how would they meet?" and it was answered with "I hate that the stupid inkigayo sandwhich popped into my head" which was promptly followed by a "RENE WTF". So here we are, one week later, with this fic to show for my lack of self control. [whips]

Unknown  
  
**Today** 8:49 PM  
Pretty dumb to leave your number where anyone could find it  
  


When Hangyul’s phone goes off, it’s not the kind of message he expects to see. He blinks down at the screen as he reads over the message again, but nothing about it rings familiar and it’s not like he remembers leaving his number somewhere. They’ve been too busy with schedules for him to think about anything that wasn’t the choreo to Flash and living up to the expectations of the fans that voted for him.

He spends far longer than he’d like to admit, trying to figure out if he’d given his number out to anyone recently, his brain sluggish from their performance earlier in the day. It’s hard to focus when he’s been comfortably stretched out on the dorm room couch, with Dohyon curled tight into his side, for the last hour.

He shifts on the couch, ignoring the way Dohyon whines as he pulls his arm out from underneath him. He flexes his fingers, waits for his circulation to return, before finally responding to the text. His phone vibrates in his hand mere moments after he’s hit send and reading the incoming text has him freezing.

i think you have the wrong number  
Hangyul right?  
  


“What’s wrong hyung?” Dohyon asks and Hangyul jerks his attention away from his phone. The frown that makes its way onto Dohyon’s face is enough to let him know he’s staring and he quickly shakes his head.

“Someone’s texting me, but I don’t know who it is.” He finally responds, turning his phone so that Dohyon can see the screen.

Dohyon goes still as his eyes flick over the messages and Hangyul has a first hand seat to the way surprise blooms across his face. “Oh, someone actually texted you.”

“What do you mean someone actually texted me?”

“It was that Inkigayo sandwich rumour right?” Dohyon starts tentatively, tucking his phone away and looking at Hangyul with wide eyes. He sucks his bottom lip between his teeth and Hangyul can see the way he’s carefully choosing what he’s going to say next. When he does continue, the words come out slow, but it’s still not enough time for Hangyul to actually take them in. “Seungyoun hyung dared me to leave my number in a sandwich, but I got nervous and left yours instead.”

“Who did you give my number to?” The question comes out dazed as he tries to work out exactly what is happening. It seems like one big joke, but from the look on Dohyon’s face, he’s absolutely serious.

“I didn’t give it to anyone,” Dohyon sits up and slides off the couch and Hangyul is too confused to reach out and stop him. “I just left it.”

“You just left it,” and whatever creeps into his voice is enough to have Dohyon’s eyes going wide as he takes a step back from the couch. 

“I can hear Seungyoun hyung calling me, gotta go! Bye hyung!” Dohyon spins on his heels and races out of the room, loudly calling Seungyoun’s name.

It leaves Hangyul sitting in the living room alone, staring at an unknown number and trying to decide what he’s going to do to get both of them back for this entire mess.

“Fuck.”

* * *

Hangyul leaves the mystery texter on read for the rest of the evening. It has nothing to do with not knowing what to say and everything to do with the string of texts he receives after not responding immediately. Forty minutes after Dohyon’s big reveal sees him with four shiny new alerts and that’s enough to have him not responding.

**Today** 9:42 PM  
I’m going to take the silence as a yes  
What did you expect would happen if you left your number like that?  
Literally anyone could have picked it up  
You’re lucky it was me  
  


He opens them so that the person sending them can see the neat little _read_ underneath them, but leaves them at that. He sets his phone off onto the side table, resolutely ignoring it for the tv that’s playing whatever show Dohyon had put on earlier.

Junho trails through the room, bowl in his hands, at one point. He stops and Hangyul tilts his head up to look at him, waiting to see what he needs.

“Are you okay?”

Hangyul smiles at the question, easing whatever expression that Junho had taken notice of on his face. He pulls himself back up on the couch, out of the slouch he’d been in. “I’m okay. Just thinking about something. Thank you for asking though.”

A nod, where Junho seems to hesitate, before continuing through the room. He pauses before leaving completely and Hangyul very nearly gets off the couch to go and pull him into a hug. It’s not hard to take a guess at what’s going through Junho’s head.

“You know you can talk to me if you need to talk to someone, right?” The question is quiet, but Hangyul doesn’t miss it.

“I do and I will if I ever need to, Junho.” The reassurance seems to be enough for Junho, his shoulders relaxing as soon as Hangyul speaks. A small, barely there smile slips onto his face, before he’s nodding and finally trailing back out of the room.

It eases something in him, having Junho reach out when he thought he needed it. It’s something warm and bright, the idea that all of them really do feel like a team in this. They’re a team, a family, and that includes them doing stupid shit as much as it includes them looking out for each other.

That’s the thought that he keeps in mind when Dohyon finally shuffles back into the living room, Seungyoun trailing after him. The both of them are wearing matching looks that beg for Hangyul to forgive them. He holds out for an entire thirty seconds before he’s losing it on a laugh and Dohyon is hurling himself back down onto the couch beside him.

“You seriously put my number in a sandwich and just left it?” He asks, tugging Dohyon in and ruffling his hair. Seungyoun sits down beside them, shaking his head, but he seems relieved to see that Hangyul isn’t angry.

“Hyung _dared_ me, I couldn’t not do it.”

* * *

Waking up the next day is an experience, because immediately something nags at Hangyul to check his phone. The messages from the night before still sit at the forefront of his mind and when he finds no new texts, something twists in his stomach. He puts it off to unease about the whole thing. He doesn’t like not knowing who has his number. 

There are so many who already have it, between the Unit and Produce, but he’s used to them telling him who it is that’s texting him. With them, it’s all mutual, but here, he feels like whoever’s on the other end is holding all of the cards.

He sighs, loud enough that he can hear Seungyoun give a grunt, before he shifts loudly on the bed. Hangyul listens to him for a moment, before he finally gives in and opens up his messenger.

Unknown  
  
**Today** 7:23 AM  
why am i lucky?  
i don’t even know who you are  
you could be anyone for all i know  
  


After hitting send, he watches the clock tick through the minutes. He gives Seungyoun another five, before he’s rolling out of bed and tugging his roommates blankets away. When Seungyoun does nothing more than slap at his hands and roll over, Hangyul laughs and drops down onto him. “You have to get up. You owe me breakfast for the whole phone number thing. Feed me before dance practice.”

“I owe you nothing, it was Dohyon!”

“You’re the adult so you have to take responsibility! Breakfast!” Hangyul loses himself in laughter as Seungyoun tries to push him off. The elbow he takes to his ribs is worth it though, especially when Seungyoun finally gives up and tells him to meet him in the kitchen.

* * *

By the time they finally break from practice, Hangyul is vibrating. It’s exhausting, but there’s a part of him that is still thriving on the fact that he’s practicing this hard for an actual debut. It’s not learning choreo to help with UNB’s comeback, or the unending question of IM.

He grabs his water bottle and phone from his bag and doesn’t miss the look Seungyoun and Dohyon share in the mirror.

I’m just your average caring hyung :)  
Really though i’m not going to give your number out or anything  
I just wanted to give you shit for doing something so dumb  
It’s just funny that I was the one to find your number  


Hangyul very nearly considers dropping his phone back down into his bag and ignoring the messages. Maybe even blocking the number. Instead, he wipes the sweat from his face, sits down on the practice room floor and leans back against the mirror.

and why is that so funny?  


He doesn’t expect an immediate answer, not with how long he’s been taking to respond to each message he’s received, but his phone vibrates only a minute later.

Because my company suggested Hangyul as a stage name before I debuted  
It’s Lee Sangyeon btw :)  


* * *

Hangyul isn’t ashamed to say that he ends up texting Sangyeon more than he expects to. It earns him a few pillows to the face when he ends up laughing and Seungyoun is trying to sleep. He texts Suwoong, Jungha and Taeeun often, but there’s something about the way his stomach flips every time Sangyeon sends him something that’s just a little more flirtatious than his previous messages.

I watched your performance  
Your silk shirt was something else  
did you like it?  


Then there are the messages that push past flirtation and into territory Hangyul is unfamiliar with. The messages that leave him flushed and quietly excusing himself to the bathroom. To say that he’s jerked off a few times would be an understatement, but he’ll never admit to how many times he’s shoved a hand down his pants while some interview with Sangyeon plays through his headphones.

Hangyul sits up in his bed, biting his bottom lip between his teeth as he waits for whatever Sangyeon will say next.

I did  
Your pretty little nipples out and practically begging for attention  
Really wanted to get my hands on you  
i’d let you  


He curls his toes at the thought, at the idea of Sangyeon touching him. He feels flushed, the twist in his stomach sliding into something molten as he shivers. It all reminds him of the butterflies he used to get in his stomach when he first met Suwoong. With Suwoong, it had been easy, despite the constant filming and lack of privacy. The two of them had stumbled through a few messy handjobs, before they had settled into a bright friendship.

Gwangsuk had laughed at the two of them when he’d found them once, ruffling his hands through their hair as he told them to be careful. It had been the first hint of acceptance that he’d ever had, one that had made it easier to curl up into Taeeun’s side one night and quietly whisper that he liked boys just as much as he did girls. 

The way Sangyeon texts him reminds him of those early days with Suwoong. They talk about everything and anything, and it’s _easy_. It’s ridiculous how easy it is.

We’re in the same building for promotions tomorrow  
Want to meet up?  


The question should seem entirely innocent, but Hangyul can’t ignore the messages that preceded it or the weeks of flirting. His hands feel sweaty where they’re gripping his phone, but he can’t bring himself to drop it into his sheets and forget about it. Instead he crawls out of bed and wanders over to Seungyoun’s bed. Seungyoun glances up from his phone and it’s the only invitation Hangyul needs to crawl into bed with him.

“Want to talk?”

“I’m bisexual,” Hangyul blurts, immediately burying his face against Seungyoun’s shoulder with a loud groan. That had not been how he was going to start this.

“Okay. You’re bisexual and I’m gay, nothing about this room is straight.” Seungyoun snorts and Hangyul twists enough to look up at him. He meets Hangyul’s gaze with a raised eyebrow, but otherwise seems unbothered. “Are you having trouble with your boy?”

“He’s not my boy.”

“No, but you want him to be. What happened? Did it finally hit you that the two of you are going to be in the same building tomorrow?”

“Fuck off,” Hangyul groans and bangs his forehead against Seungyoun’s shoulder.

“Awww, babies first big crush.” Seungyoun reaches up, fingers carding through Hangyul’s hair. The touch is enough to have Hangyul slumping against him, soaking in the small comfort. Seungyoun gives him a few minutes, before he’s clearing his throat. “You don’t have to see him if you’re not ready. We can hide you away in the dressing room and make excuses for you if he comes looking.”

Hangyul rolls over onto his back, pulling his phone up and staring at the screen. “No, that’s okay. Thanks hyung, it means a lot that you’d do that for me.”

“Of course, brat.”

yeah okay  


* * *

Hangyul wakes with Dohyon pressed along the length of his back, his hands fisted into his shirt. It makes it hard to get out of bed, to push himself out from the comfort of his blankets and Dohyon warm against him. He can hear Seungwoo making his way through the dorm, knocking on doors and rolling boys out of their beds, and he knows they only have a few moments before he’s calling for them to get up too.

Dohyon whines as he twists around, reaching over him to grab for his phone on the nightstand. He smiles at the way Dohyon buries his face against his chest, mumbling incoherently against him as he tries to catch a few more minutes of sleep.

See you soon  


“Time to get up,” Seungwoo calls and Hangyul waves at him in acknowledgement. It earns him a nod, before Seungwoo is trailing off to the next room.

“Come on, Dohyon, we need to get up,” he prods. There’s a shuffle from Seungyoun’s bed, but Hangyul knows he’ll have to wake him too. He’d probably need more of a wakeup call himself, if he hadn’t been buzzing with strangling combination of excitement and anxiety.

Carding his hand through Dohyon’s hair, he gives himself a few more moments to lay there in the quiet. When he feels like he’s finally settled as much as he can, he ushers Dohyon out of bed and tells him to wake up Seungyoun. He sits on the edge of the bed, watching the way Dohyon shuffles over to Seungyoun’s bed as he grumbles.

yeah i’m looking forward to it  


“Come on hyung,” Dohyon grabs at his hands and Hangyul drops his phone onto his bed as he lets him pull him to his feet.

* * *

“Good job everyone, take a break,” Hangyul nods jerkily when their manager finally sends them off. He can feel himself practically vibrating and he knows the others have noticed from the way Yohan and Dongpyo keep shooting him looks.

“I’m going to…” he trails off as he jerkily points down the hall. Seungwoo opens his mouth to say something, but Seungyoun is there, resting a hand on his shoulder and waving Hangyul off with the other.

“Keep your phone on,” Seungyoun says cheerily before pushing Seungwoo down the hall in the direction of where they’d been promised food. Hangyul knows that he’ll have to explain himself later, but he knows Seungyoun won’t make him do it alone and that makes it easier to grab his phone and scurry off.

The rooms blur together, but there’s a notification on his phone screen telling him which one he needs to find. It’s not hard, he’s been in the building before, but walking down the halls feels like more of an effort than it normally does. His feet feel like they’re sticking to the floor with each step he takes.

_Here,_ he thinks weakly when he finally gets to the room. He freezes there, hands clenching around his phone in his nerves.

“You look like you’re dying.”

Hangyul jerks around at the voice, barely stopping himself from stumbling over his own feet. He blinks, taking in Sangyeon standing there looking effortlessly pretty and all he can think is that he’s in over his head. “Maybe a little.”

“Come here,” Sangyeon reaches out, taking him by the hand, before he throws open the door to the room and drags Hangyul in with him. The door clicks shut behind them and Sangyeon pushes him back against it. Pictures and videos don’t do him justice, Hangyul notices from this close up and it’s information he doesn’t know what to do with. The look that crosses over Sangyeon’s face looks amused and it makes him feel small, suddenly.

“Hangyul, I need you to breathe for me.”

“Right, I can do that.” Hangyul nods and Sangyeon laughs. 

“You look like you’re about to have a nervous breakdown.”

“I’m still processing the fact that this whole thing maybe wasn’t a joke.”

“No,” Sangyeon smiles, something soft, that has the butterflies in Hangyul’s stomach making a full force reappearance. “It wasn’t a joke.”

“Hi hyung,” Hangyul sags back against the door, focusing on evening his breathing out. It helps, he notes, being told that it wasn’t a joke. The ball of anxiety in his chest eases at the words, the spike of worry that this was some fucked up prank, leaving him shaky. “So none of it was a joke?”

“No, Hangyul, none of it was.” The hands holding him back against the door ease off and Sangyeon takes a step back, giving him enough space to collect himself.

“Oh that’s good,” the words come out breathy as the implication that Sangyeon wasn’t messing with him sets in. It makes him braver, feel more like he’s not standing on the precipice. “I was hoping it wasn’t.”

“Were you now?” Something flashes across Sangyeon’s face, far too quick for Hangyul to pick up on, before he cocks his head.

“You really watched our performance?” Hangyul asks, instead of answering. He’s not asking about today’s performance and from the way Sangyeon steps forward again, into his space, he knows that he understands.

“I did,” Sangyeon’s hands settle on his waist, fingers dipping under the jacket through the slits in the side, unimpeded. His hands are warm against his skin and Hangyul sends a quick thanks to the stylists for their choices in shirts and jackets. Hangyul shivers, lifting one of his hands to slide over the back of Sangyeon’s.

“Fuck, you’re pretty,” Sangyeon murmurs and Hangyul feels whatever he was going to say die on his tongue. He lifts the hand he has on his waist, sliding it up along his ribs. Hangyul shakes at the way Sangyeon’s hand rasps over the skin left sensitive from his mic pack band, and then further still. He squeezes his eyes shut, trembling in Sangyeon’s hands, as his thumb smoothes circles over the side of his pectoral.

It’s quiet and all Hangyul can hear is his own ragged breathing and the way his heart is pounding in his ears. It’s hard to think when Sangyeon’s hands are so hot against his skin and his thumb keeps brushing right underneath his nipple, reminding him of just what exactly had been in texts last night.

“Hey,” Sangyeon’s voice is soft, coaxing. It’s enough to have Hangyul opening his eyes, to see the way he’s being watched. Sangyeon presses in a little closer, and Hangyul can make out the way his pupils are blown wide. “I’m going to kiss you.”

“Fuck, please,” Hangyul gasps and Sangyeon closes the distance between their faces to kiss Hangyul hard on the mouth.

Sangyeon guides the kiss with a confidence that leaves Hangyul panting against his lips. He leaves no room for Hangyul to second guess himself, to worry that he won’t be any good at this. His teeth tug at Hangyul’s bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth and pulling a gasp from Hangyul. There’s nothing hesitant about it, for a first kiss. Not with the way Sangyeon presses in further, licks into Hangyul’s mouth the minute he gasps and traces his tongue along the back of his teeth.

Hangyul’s glad for the door at his back, for having something to hold him up as his legs shake underneath him. Sangyeon’s hands shift and Hangyul jerks in his grasp when his thumb catches over his nipple, keening loudly into his mouth. It spurs him into movement, into stepping in as close as he can get to Sangyeon and kissing him back.

It’s sloppy, far too much spit and tongue, but Hangyul doesn’t care, not when Sangyeon pushes a thigh between his legs and hikes it up. It should feel too fast maybe, but that’s a faraway thought as Hangyul tangles his hands in Sangyeon’s shirt and rolls his hips down against his thigh.

The hand on his waist pushes him back against the door and Hangyul whines, head thunking back against it. He pants, eyes focusing on Sangyeon’s face and the way his lips are swollen from where Hangyul’s teeth had caught on them.

“Do you want to do this here?” Sangyeon asks, leaning in to mouth his way along the curve of Hangyul’s jaw. He scrapes his teeth gently over his skin and the threat that he could leave marks if he wanted has Hangyul jerkily nodding his head.

“Yeah, I do, hyung,” he answers honestly. He can feel Sangyeon, hard against his hip and it has him laughing, because he’s not faring much better. He rocks forward, hissing in discomfort over how tight his pants are and the rough drag of fabric as he rolls his hips in against Sangyeon’s.

There’s a hand in his hair, pulling his head back with a jerk and Sangyeon’s tongue catches on the underside of his jaw.

“You know, you can keep calling me hyung or you can call me Hangyul if that’s what you get off on.” Sangyeon purrs, voice low and Hangyul can feel the rumble of his words against his throat. The words make him squirm, rutting down against Sangyeon with a small noise of surprise. He blinks stupidly up at the ceiling, mouth working around a surprised jumble of words.

He shudders, barely notices the way Sangyeon’s fingers work on the single button of his jacket and has it sliding off of his shoulders. He’s too focused on what Sangyeon had said, on what he had offered. It’s not something he’s ever thought about, but the thought of calling Sangyeon by what would have been his stage name if he had listened to the company sends a bolt of heat through him. Calling Sangyeon by his _own name_, it seems incredibly illicit, but now that Sangyeon’s offered it, “Oh.”

His reaction must be obvious, because Sangyeon’s laughter fills up the room, but it’s far from judgemental. He pulls back enough to tug Hangyul out of his jacket, before starting on the buttons of his own shirt. He raises an eyebrow when Hangyul reaches out to bat his hands away, undoing the buttons himself with fumbling fingers.

“Come on baby, I want to hear you say it.” Sangyeon drawls, shirt hanging off of his shoulders in a way that has Hangyul wanting to see how he would look hovering above him, half dressed.

“I’d really like you to fuck me, Hangyul,” the words come out stilted, embarrassed, but Sangyeon doesn’t seem to mind. Once the words are hanging in the air, he’s pressing back in, licking into Hangyul’s mouth and swallowing the noise of surprise he makes.

“Fuck,” Sangyeon pants against his mouth, pulling him away from the door and guiding him out into the middle of the room. Hangyul hears the click of the lock before they move away, barely catches it over the way his attention has zeroed in on Sangyeon’s hands working on his belt. “How are you real?”

“Please, Hangyul,” it’s easier to say the second time, especially when Sangyeon shoves a hand down his pants and wraps his fingers around his cock. He jolts at the touch, falling forward against Sangyeon’s chest and rocking his hips into the loose curl of his fingers.

“I’m not going to fuck you, baby, not here. I’ll get you off though,” Sangyeon promises pushing Hangyul’s pants down around his hips. “Come on, we don’t want to wreck your clothes. Your stylists would hate you.”

It’s hard to think with Sangyeon working his hand over his cock in a steady rhythm, the rough slide is enough to keep him grounded, to keep him from being embarrassed by the way Sangyeon strips him bare with one hand. All Hangyul can do is fist his hands into the loops of Sangyeon’s pants to keep himself standing.

A nudge at his ankle has him stepping out of his pants and over to the side. The hand not working over his cock smoothes down his back and Hangyul shudders at the way Sangyeon’s fingers dig into his muscles, pulling him in tight against Sangyeon’s front.

“This is unfair,” Hangyul groans, burying his face against the crook of Sangyeon’s neck. “Why am I the only one undressed?”

“You’re the only one still wearing their clothes from their performance,” Sangyeon hums and folds himself down to the floor. Hangyul goes with him, ends up sprawled messily in his lap. Sangyeon takes his hand away from his dick, settles both of them on Hangyul’s waist to twist Hangyul in his lap, until they’re pressed back to front. Hangyul can feel Sangyeon pressed hard against his back, but Sangyeon doesn’t seem interested in that at the moment.

Instead, he hooks his chin over Hangyul’s shoulder and wraps his precome sticky fingers back around his cock.

“Fuck you look pretty, all laid out for me,” Sangyeon says and Hangyul rocks up in his lap. His fingers slap out to dig into Sangyeon’s thighs underneath him, digging in as Sangyeon’s fingers slide up the length of his dick and palms over the head, before sliding back down.

“Hyung, please,” Hangyul moans, feels the way his orgasm is already building.

“No, baby, you know that’s not who you need to ask for,” Sangyeon teases, hand falling away completely.

“No no, sorry, Hangyul, please,” the words come out brittle, strained with how much he wants Sangyeon’s hand back on his cock.

“You really get off on this, don’t you?” Sangyeon’s words pull Hangyul back, have him keening. He knows he’s a mess, but Sangyeon had him the moment he asked if he could kiss him and had wrecked him the moment he told him to call him Hangyul. 

Hangyul doesn’t say anything, couldn’t if he wanted to. All he can do is squirm under the firm press Sangyeon has on his dick, wishing his hand would continue the easy slide up and down his cock. He’s seconds away from coming and it would take the smallest push for him to tip over. 

Sangyeon clicks his tongue and his fingers wrap tight around him, “No baby, you have to earn it. You have to beg for it.”

“Please,” and Hangyul knows it’s not enough, not what Sangyeon wants. His fingers tighten around him, just enough. “Please Hangyul, let me come.”

“Of course baby, you can come.” Sangyeon’s fingers loosen, before they drag up the length of his dick and it’s all it takes for Hangyul to come hot over his hand. He shudders in Sangyeon’s lap, fingers wrapping around Sangyeon’s wrist as he continues to work him through his orgasm. He can hear his own moans ringing off the walls, only just louder than the way Sangyeon is whispering sweet praises about how good he’s been, how beautiful he is, in his ear.

Hangyul goes slack in Sangyeon’s grasp, head rolling back against his shoulder as he shakes and comes down from his orgasm. Despite this, Sangyeon continues touching Hangyul, hand curving over the head of his cock and rubbing in tiny little circles.

“Oh please, please. It’s too—“ Hangyul gasps, thighs tensing and back arching. He kicks out his leg when he hears Sangyeon laugh in his ear, heel digging into the floor as he tries to find some leverage to squirm away. 

“Shh, I’ve got you,” Sangyeon murmurs against Hangyul’s hair. His free hand presses down on Hangyul’s sternum, using enough pressure to prevent Hangyul from wriggling away from him. Hangyul presses up into his hand, hips twisting up and to the side, before he finally settles back into Sangyeon with a shaky moan. 

“Too much,” Hangyul whines, moans getting louder, more shrill as Sangyeon continues to rub his hand against him harder. He can feel himself leaking further, adding to the cooling puddle of come dripping down the dip of his hip, but he can’t bring himself to feel embarrassed by the mess he’s making of himself.

Sangyeon’s hand slides across his sternum and over his pectoral, until he can drag his nails over Hangyul’s nipple in time with the steady drag of the palm of his hand over Hangyul’s cock head.

Hangyul only lasts a few more seconds, before his whole body goes rigid again. He comes on a keen, clear fluid leaking weakly down the sensitive length of his cock and soaking against his abdomen.

“Hyung?” Hangyul asks quietly, muscles tensing when Sangyeon doesn’t remove his hand. Sangyeon doesn’t say anything as he holds the head of Hangyul’s dick in between his palms, gradually building the friction up with the hand on top until Hangyul is outright sobbing.

He loses track of the words coming out of his mouth, a sloppy mix of Sangyeon’s name, please’s and moans. 

“What? You’re not going to call my Hangyul or hyung anymore, baby?” Sangyeon murmurs and that’s all it takes for Hangyul to break in his arms one last time.

When Hangyul comes back to himself, Sangyeon is carding his hand through his hair and humming lowly. He feels boneless and like the only thing keeping him from melting into a puddle is the lone arm Sangyeon has around his waist.

“How are you doing baby?” Sangyeon laughs, adjusting Hangyul in his lap.

“That was a lot,” Hangyul murmurs, twisting enough to bury his face against Sangyeon’s neck. He inhales, can smell sweat rolling off of Sangyeon’s skin and the hint of whatever aftershave he’d put on earlier. It’s nice and he exhales slowly, as he feels his heart rate starting to settle. “This was not what I expected when you asked if we could meet up today.”

“Me either, but you’re far too pretty to resist.” Sangyeon presses his lips to Hangyul’s temple, the touch so much softer now that they’re both bathing in their post orgasm. Hangyul melts into him further, twists enough to catch Sangyeon’s lips against his own. The hand Sangyeon has in his hair drifts down, fingers cradling Hangyul’s jaw to tilt his head at the perfect angle to lick into his mouth.

It’s slow and Hangyul feels something in his stomach flip at the way Sangyeon explores his mouth with his tongue. He can’t help the whine that spills from his lips when Sangyeon pulls back and it earns him a quick kiss to his forehead.

“Come on, time to get you cleaned up and back to your group. Can’t have you getting mixed up in a scandal just after you’ve debuted.” Another shift of movement and Sangyeon is getting the both of them to their feet. Hangyul grunts as he tries to get his footing, his legs wobbling before he manages to stand on his own two feet.

“Right, of course,” Hangyul’s voice falls off as he reaches around for his clothes. His attention catches on the way Sangyeon shakes his head as he goes over to the sink, soaking a cloth at the sink.

“Hey, don’t misunderstand me,” Sangyeon wanders back over, damp cloth in his hand and Hangyul jumps when he wipes it across his stomach without hesitating. “I want to see you again, if you’re okay with it. We just don’t have a lot of time, not here at least.”

“I’d really like that.”

“Alright, then it’s that simple.” Sangyeon leans in and kisses the corner of Hangyul’s mouth. He finishes wiping him down quickly, before dropping the cloth and cupping Hangyul’s face between his hands. “You’re not allowed to overthink this.”

Hangyul knows what he means, because he can already feel the doubts and worries creeping in. The worries that this ends the minute they leave this room. He closes his eyes, lifts his hands to cover Sangyeon’s and nods his head as much as Sangyeon’s grip will allow.

“Good, now get dressed.” Sangyeon drops his hands to swats at Hangyul’s hip. He groans, wobbling as he reaches to collect his clothes and pull them back on.

“You didn’t even get off,” Hangyul grumbles as he buttons his pants up and does up the belt. He yelps when Sangyeon steps in against him, fingers sliding through the belt loops in his pants to tug him in tight.

“No, but I can phone you tonight and you can listen to me get myself off if you’d like.” Sangyeon’s teeth catch at the underside of his jaw and Hangyul feels himself flush at the words.

“Yeah,” he swallows, mouth suddenly dry. “ I’d like that.”

“I’ll phone you tonight then,”Sangyeon pulls back with a smile and starts for the door. “I’ve still got your number, afterall.”

“I’ll call you later, babe.”

Hangyul watches Sangyeon leave, looking like he didn’t just have Hangyul begging under his hand minutes ago. _In over my head_ it’s a thought that filters through his head again as Sangyeon turns to smile at him one last time, lips kiss bruised and looking like something Hangyul wants to sink his teeth into again. In over his head, but Hangyul finds he doesn’t mind, especially not when he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket.

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to come talk to me about these boys, possible prompts or just... anything at all: you can find me over at [twitter](https://twitter.com/Elesteria). I'm always down to chat at new people! You can also find me at [curiouscat](https://t.co/1yfgiUBE0r) if you have any thoughts, prompts or stuff that you're too nervous to say in public.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [our little song is blooming like a flower](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20614340) by [timeofsorrow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/timeofsorrow/pseuds/timeofsorrow)


End file.
